Shelter of Hope

A year after Hurricane Naomi, the residents of Hope, Mississippi, are still trying to rebuild their lives. Nathan Grayson lost his wife to the storm, and he's survived the pain by focusing on his daughter, Carly, and his veterinary clinic. He's shut out everything else, including friends and family who want to help.

When Susan Fayard asks Nathan to treat an injured dog, she can't help but see how much his isolation is hurting the handsome widower and his sweet daughter. Susan makes it her mission to help Nathan rebuild his trust in others. Even though he's grateful, Nathan refuses to rely on her. After all, this mission is only temporary. If Nathan lets Susan into his life, he and his daughter could be left heartbroken when she moves on.

Chapter Eight

"You look like you came from church," Nathan said as he took in her manicured fingernails and toenails, which were painted a bright red color that matched the only thing she wore that was appropriate for working on a farmthe T-shirt under her delicate lacy jacket.

Susan folded her arms over her chest. "I did, that's what I said earlier. I didn't want to make myself any later by running home and changing." Shrugging out of her lacy cover, she folded it over her forearm. "See. Now I'm ready."

He stared at her white sandals with two-inch heels. "I need someone to clean the cages and pens. Carly and I feed and water the animals first thing in the morning, then I check to make sure all of the ones who are sick or have been injured are all right before we clean out what cages and pens we have time for. Most of the job falls to the weekend when I'm not at my veterinary practice in town."

Her eyes widened. "You have all the animals fed and watered before you go to work?"

"Yes, my day starts at five. It seems to be getting earlier as the population grows here at the farm. This wasn't supposed to be a second job, but it has evolved into one."

"Who stays with Carly while you're at work?" Susan left the farm clinic and strolled toward her car.

"My aunt. Sometimes she also comes when there's an animal that needs a closer watch." When the woman who had dominated his thoughts for the past day turned and opened her car door, he added, "I appreciate the offer of help, but I can understand if it's more than you signed up for. I'll take care of Oreo."

She threw a quizzical look over her shoulder, pushed her front seat forward and rummaged around in the back of her car. "What are you talking about?"

"You're leaving."

She straightened and faced him. "What in the world gave you that idea?"

"You opened your door."

She twisted back around and withdrew a pair of tennis shoes. "To get these. Heels aren't appropriate for cleaning out cages and pens."

"What about your white pants?"

"Bleach. It works wonders on dirt."

"So you're staying?"

Okay, maybe today she would helpor at least try tobut he seriously doubted he would see her again.

Susan sat sideways in her car's front seat and put on her tennis shoes. When she finished, she stabbed him with a look that told him he shouldn't doubt her resolve. "I don't go back on my word. I came to work." She stood and slammed her door. "Why do you have trouble accepting help from others?"